


Questions

by MochiiPrincess



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loss, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Past Character Death, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 08:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20132530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MochiiPrincess/pseuds/MochiiPrincess
Summary: Unedited and unproofread please take my 1am garbage--Even after the war Dimitri still struggles to deal with all he's lost.





	Questions

Dimitri often found himself wondering what was worse: the nights he spent in fitful wakefulness, tossing and turning, blaming himself as he remembered, or the rare nights where the exhaustion took over and he fell into even more fitful bounts of sleep when he relieved every moment that had led him to this. 

Regardless, almost every night led Dimitri to the corridors, calloused hands shaking against the rough brick of the castle walls with unfocused eyes as he remembered. He sometimes wished he could forget, that the ghosts of the past that clung to him would release him, let him live a truly free man; he always felt guilty for those thoughts. Those he loved deserved, above all, to be remembered. The thought of forgetting terrified him as much as it allured him, too - perhaps more. His father, his friends, you… all were precious to him, and to forget even a moment of the ever-limited time he’d had with the people he loved most terrified him. The time he’d been given to spend with them had been too short as it was, even without losing priceless moments.

Still, some of those memories haunted him; the image of the sword that had pierced his father’s neck, already coated in the blood of his friends, the *thud* as his head fell to the ground, face still defiant; the screams of the people of Duscur begging, pleading, accusing; and you. Your final moments were what haunted him most, lately. Recent the wound still throbbed, still bled. It was rubbed raw daily, scab picked every time he glanced to his left during the war counsel to the seat you used to occupy (now not there at all), every time he went to ask your advice and realized you were not there to give it; walking in to find an empty bed at night without a body there to warm it, holding a candle and chiding him for working too late again, walking alone with his arms wrapped around no one. A day didn’t go by without a reminder of you, and a reminder that you were no longer there.

Even after promising to never let anyone slip through his fingers again he’d watched your blood flow through them as your body went stiff in his arms. You had still smiled even as you lay dying, though it hadn’t reached your eyes. Knowing that your apology had been for him, that you’d hidden your fears to quell his, was like a knife in his heart. Years of training, of trying, of working, and he still hadn’t been strong enough to protect you; not your feelings, and not your life. 

A hard punch to the wall shook the foundation, bits of stone falling loose and echoing through the corridor. Had he been stronger, better, you wouldn’t have met such a cruel fate. Despite the words of his friends he heard nothing more than empty consolations: he knew better. This was his punishment. Well deserved, but why, Gods why, did you have to get dragged into it too?

Dimitri knew he shouldn’t torture himself - knew you wouldn’t have wanted him to. You’d told him as much in conversations he’d never been able to bare and he could still hear your words.

“If anything happens to me promise…” Promise he wouldn’t divert from the path he’d begun to carve both for himself and for all of Fodlan, promise he would keep fighting, promise he would be _happy._ But how could he ever be happy without you?

Echoing footsteps carried Dimitri to the castle’s chapel. He found what little solace there was to be had in the echoing chamber at night, when none were to be found but himself and the statue made to salute the goddess. It put him as close to at ease as perhaps he could be and, settling on his knees before the statue of the divine, Dimitri clasped his hands to his forehead.

How was he supposed to go now? Without his father, mother, stepmother, without the friends he’d held dear, without _you_? Without the people who had taken him from his darkest times and extended a hand to him, even when he’d deserved it least? Why had the world taken you, taken all the ones he’d loved, when he was the one judged guilty?

It was often that he asked the goddess these questions, praying for peace, for understanding, to cool, callous, unrelenting stone. But Dimitri knew that tonight, as every other night, he would receive no answer. He had begun to think there were no answers to be had.

How could he cope, continue living? Why was he here when all those he loved had left? Dimitri prayed until he felt sweat beading his brow, tears stinging his eyes. 

The goddess did not answer.


End file.
